Folklore and Strange Tales: At the Start, You Retrieve the Sea-Suppressing Black Iron

Chapter 131 Red Stamp and Black Seal Point to the Teahouse; Han Shaobai Uses Fake Accounts to Trap Boss Lin

"The back door of the old teahouse."

After Han Shaobai finished reading, he poked his finger at the corner of the ledger, his fingertip getting a little black oil on it, and immediately withdrew it.

"This is the place where Sun Daqiang gave his child's blood."

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the cover of the ledger. The red stamp border was still there, but the four characters "博古斋查已" (Bo Gu Zhai has been checked) had been chewed open by the black ink, and the address emerged from under the ink pad.

Tieguai Li braced his wrench against the wooden sign.

"Did Shen Jiulou hand us a travel permit?"

Zhou Banxian placed the compass next to the ledger, and the compass needle circled the black seal before turning back to the willow shop door.

"The pass is too polite; it's practically dragging someone away."

Tang Wanqing said, "I can't go."

Tong Kexin answered even faster.

"The children can't go either."

Xiao Xing, clutching the steamed bun and key, snuggled into Aunt Wang's arms.

Cheng Xiaojin raised his hand, then stopped in mid-air. "Don't be afraid, no one dares to touch you."

Liu Bai tugged at the corner of his mouth through the crack in the door, his voice dry and strained.

"Shen Jiulou wants the account books."

Han Shaobai tucked the account book into his coat, but the hot cover made him pull his arm away.

"What did my family's accounts do to deserve this? They're even more unlucky than me tonight."

Cheng Xiaojin bent down to look at the black mark, his sleeve three inches away from the ledger.

"When a business in the mortal world encounters a ghost market, it will use your account book to find a place to eat."

Tieguai Li said, "I want to take all thirty-six living people from Liulichang away."

Han Shaobai's face turned pale. "If my dad finds out, he'll want to stuff me into a Buddha's belly."

Tong Kexin glared at him.

"Take care of the pot first, the child is still here."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at Liu Bai.

"How do we determine this?"

Liu Bai's face was half-licked by the bluish-white light, and his chin sank slightly into the doorway.

She scratched at the door frame, and dust fell onto the threshold.

"The ledgers cannot be torn up, and the red stamps cannot be washed away."

Han Shaobai's eyelids twitched.

"Don't tell me you're going to falsify the accounts."

Tieguai Li glanced at him.

"The young master of an antique shop, why would he be afraid of falsifying accounts?"

Han Shaobai grew anxious, "Pricing is one thing, negotiating is another, but the books can't be smeared."

Cheng Xiaojin patted the air outside his shoulder from a distance.

"Tonight's account will be used to save our lives."

Han Shaobai's lips trembled.

"Who should we write about?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at Sun Daqiang, who was tied to the ground and shrank back.

"What do you want to do?"

Tong Kexin tapped the long spoon against the edge of the pot.

"I'll open the shop for you."

"I...I have no money."

Tieguai Li laughed, "You're lucky, you can have it on credit for now."

Han Shaobai turned to a blank page, his pen hovering.

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Sun Daqiang, tonight I'll give you thirty-six bowls of mutton soup on credit."

"If you write an order on credit but don't pay, the meal won't be paid for under your name."

Tong Kexin immediately took over.

"At the ghost market, they thought they had managed to snag thirty-six mouthfuls of rice, only to find out upon tasting them that they were Sun Daqiang's messy debts."

Tieguai Li Le's wrench trembled.

"Using rotten people as bait is despicable, but it sounds satisfying."

Han Shaobai stared at the ledger, not writing anything for a long time.

"Brother Cheng, the fake accounts are in my family's ledger. If they investigate later, I'll take the blame."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at him, and Han Shaobai wiped the ink with his sleeve, his voice lowered.

"I'm not afraid of losing money, I'm afraid my dad will say that Boguzhai's accounts were ruined because of me."

Cheng Xiaojin didn't laugh. "Then write it out clearly: a life-saving fake account."

Aunt Wang immediately said, "I'll testify, it's to save the child."

Grandpa Li raised his frying liver ladle and said, "I can testify that this was to save the nightlife scene."

Old Zhao, the shoe repairman, put the awl back into the sole of the shoe.

"Write it down, young master. Be honest and write down the reasons clearly."

Han Shaobai wrote, "Sun Daqiang, thirty-six bowls of mutton soup on credit."

Sun Daqiang cursed loudly on the ground.

"I didn't buy on credit!"

Tieguai Li kicked him so hard his face was turned towards the account book.

Whether you got credit or not is up to you, but today the neighbors are offering you credit.

Cheng Xiaojin continued, "Note: If you buy on credit and don't pay, you'll be responsible for any unpaid debts and your meals will not be affected."

As soon as the words were finished, the black ink on the cover began to seep into the inner pages.

Tang Wanqing laid out the copper coin array at the four corners of the account book, and white smoke rose from the coin holes.

"It's lying about its accounts."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Let it bite."

Han Shaobai clutched the ledger tightly.

"What if you bite through it?"

"Bite through and you'll recognize Sun Daqiang."

Sun Daqiang struggled desperately, the hemp rope chafing until it bled.

"Boss Lin, save me!"

Inside the willow shop, the voice of the fake Lu Mingzhu faded away, replaced by a man's laughter, carrying the smell of tea.

"Sun Daqiang, you've messed up your accounts."

Sun Daqiang's eyes widened.

"Boss Lin?"

Tieguai Li poked the door crack with his wrench.

"The main dish is served."

Liu Bai turned half his face toward the wooden sign.

"The sounds coming from the teahouse's treasury."

Boss Lin coughed first before speaking.

"Using a child to block the door, the Cheng family has learned to be dirty too."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at the wooden sign.

"I'll use steamed buns to block you, but you'll use your child's blood to feed the door."

"

Aunt Wang retorted, "Boss Lin, is it? Dare to come to Liulichang and have a bowl of soup?"

Grandpa Li tapped the stir-frying pan with the ladle, saying, "I'll add some ingredients for you."

Tong Kexin placed a long spoon at an angle on the edge of the pot.

"Come to Huguo Temple, Old Tang will provide plenty."

Boss Lin paused for a moment, then said, "A vulgar shrew."

Tong Kexin smiled.

"That's great, you shrew, it's just right to splash you with hot soup."

Han Shaobai lowered his head, and black bubbles swelled up on the account pages.

"Brother Cheng, the paper is almost ruined."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Stamp it."

Han Shaobai picked up the red stamp and stopped at the word "credit".

Cheng Xiaojin said, "On credit."

*Snap!* The red stamp fell, and black oil splattered up, swallowing half of the word "credit".

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Not paid."

*Snap!* The second strike landed, and the sound of a teacup shattering came from inside the wooden plaque.

Tieguai Li was amused.

"Sounds pretty valuable, huh?"

Zhou Banxian's compass needle turned north.

"The ghost market has made a move."

The black oil was pulled out along the fake ledger pages, and the whole ledger was to be dragged out of Liulichang.

Han Shaobai's knees slid forward.

"It's pulling me."

Cheng Xiaojin lifted his eyelids.

"Sun Daqiang, come here and take the tent."

Sun Daqiang was stunned.

"I?"

"If you don't take responsibility for your debt, who will?"

"I won't hug you!"

Tong Kexin splashed a spoonful of mutton soup at his feet.

"Shall I hug you?"

Tieguai Li loosened one of Sun Daqiang's hands, dragged him to the account book, and tied his wrist and the cover together with hemp rope.

Sun Daqiang's voice cracked as he yelled.

"It's hot! It's so hot!"

Black oil seeped out from the pages and wrapped around Sun Daqiang's wrist.

The smell of ink from fake documents, the burnt smell of hanging rope ash, the fishy smell of children's blood, and the smell of mutton soup broth all seeped into the account book.

Sun Daqiang's neck veins bulged from the pain, and he called out to Boss Lin.

A voice came from the wooden sign.

"waste!"

Cheng Xiaojin dusted off his cuffs. "Boss Lin, the worst thing for a businessman is to complain about his goods."

He looked at the churning black oil in the ledger.

"You took the people, you took the blood, now that the debt is settled, don't refund it."

Boss Lin sneered, "You think you can get a fake account into my hands?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at Han Shaobai.

Write the recipient's name.

Han Shaobai got up and picked up his pen.

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Boss Lin."

Han Shaobai stopped writing.

Full name.

Cheng Xiaojin looked at Sun Daqiang.

"What's his full name?"

Sun Daqiang gritted his teeth and remained silent, the black grease wrapping around his elbow, causing him to roll his eyes back in pain.

"Lin — Lin Huai-ren".

Tieguai Li spat.

"Huai Ren, his father probably didn't expect him to be this kind of person when he named him, did he?"

Han Shaobai quickly wrote down Lin Huai-ren's name.

Cheng Xiaojin said, "I'll take thirty-six bowls from Sun Daqiang on credit, at one coin each."

After Han Shaobai finished writing, the red stamp was hung on the three characters "Lin Huai Ren".

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Yes."

*Snap!* The red stamp fell.

The sounds from the nail holes in the wooden sign became chaotic. Someone overturned tables and chairs at the other end of the Ghost Market Teahouse, spilling tea all over the floor.

Zhou Banxian pointed his compass needle northwest.

"I pulled it over."

Boss Lin's voice changed tone.

"You dare put your messy accounts on my desk?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked up and said, "You're too kind. I didn't charge you for running the errand."

The character "Shen" in the middle of the wooden sign turned black, and the sound of coughing up blood came from Boss Lin's side, pressing down onto the street through the nail hole.

Sun Daqiang cried out, "Boss Lin, save me!"

The sound of Boss Lin cursing came from inside the wooden sign.

"Cut off the account!"

Zhou Banxian's face darkened. "He's going to abandon Sun Daqiang!"

The black oil was pulled from the ledger and wrapped around Sun Daqiang's neck.

Tang Wanqing swung the red thread over, Tong Kexin followed with the splashing of soup, and Tieguai Li used a hemp rope to pull them out.

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the wooden sign.

"Don't rush to save him; let him vomit one last bit."

Tong Kexin's temper flared up.

"You're here again?"

Sun Daqiang's face turned purple from being strangled, and his tongue was pressed against his teeth.

"A wooden box—Boss Lin gave a wooden box to Master Shen."

"What wooden box?"

"The back door of the old teahouse, three feet long, inside grabbing—grabbing the door panel."

Liu Bai's face was grim.

"Grab the door panel?"

Tang Wanqing's hand, which was pulled by the red thread, turned red.

"quick!"

Cheng Xiaojin stared at Sun Daqiang.

"Whose hair is in the box?"

Sun Daqiang's lips opened and closed.

"Lu————Lu————"

The wooden sign read, "Boss Lin shouted sternly."

"Break!"

The black oil was forced into Sun Daqiang's mouth.

Tong Kexin poured a spoonful of soup over Sun Daqiang, Tieguai Li used a wrench to untie the knot, and Tang Wanqing pierced Sun Daqiang's ear with a silver needle.

Sun Daqiang spat out a mouthful of black blood and went limp.

He's still alive, but he's stopped talking and can't say anything more.

The black seal on the cover of the account book slowly faded, leaving only the three characters "Lin Huai-ren". The red stamp was crooked, but it was still clear.

Han Shaobai wiped his face.

"Brother Cheng, let's put Boss Lin on the tab."

"7

Tieguai Li laughed, his shoulders shaking.

"The young master of Boguzhai has made something of himself; his first smuggling operation was recorded as the Southeast Asian snake."

The nails under Xiaoxing's feet sank completely back down.

The vengeful corpse in red, He Xiulan, stood by the pot, looking down at the child. Black oil dripped from her red clothes onto the ground, turning into ordinary water stains.

The seventh gate was quiet for a moment, but the wooden sign inside the willow shop gate did not disappear.

A creaking sound came from deep within the Shen character coin.

Inside the wooden box, fingernails scratched at the lid, and the voice of the fake Lu Mingzhu came close, only half a sentence remaining.

"Lu Mingzhu's hair is in the box."

"Hair does not equal a person."

Cheng Xiaojin's words were heard throughout the entire street.

Tong Kexin placed a long ladle on the edge of the pot, the broth at the bottom of the ladle steaming hot.

"You heard it with your ears, so stop pretending nothing happened."

Cheng Xiaojin's shoe tips rubbed against the oil stains in the cracks of the blue bricks.

"I'm afraid if I pretend to be bad, you'll panic even more."

Tieguai Li braced himself against the wooden sign with a wrench, and swear words were squeezed out from between his teeth.

"That old bastard Shen Jiulou, he always knows how to stab people in the heart."

Zhou Banxian chewed on the pipe stem, his compass resting on the side of the account book.

"The wooden box is three feet long, with the door panel in hand, and Lu Mingzhu's hair. There might not be any living people at the teahouse; it's most likely an old shadow puppet."

Tang Wanqing stared at Cheng Xiaojin's cuffs; the edge of the medicine cloth was already turning blue.

"You can't follow the sound."

"Um."

Tang Wanqing tightened the red thread.

"If they agree to it so readily, they must have ulterior motives."

"

Tong Kexin continued.

"Your credibility here is even lower than Sun Daqiang's."

Cheng Xiaojin sighed.

"I'm at least a poor man with some standing in Panjiayuan."

Tieguai Li scoffed.

"You're the kind of person who even buys cigarettes on credit."

Liu Bai pressed half his face against the crack in the door, his eyes fixed on the nail hole in the wooden sign.

"Shen Jiulou brought over the wooden box, but didn't go to the teahouse."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at him.

"Where to?"

Liu Bai was pulled from behind by something inside the door, her forehead hitting the door panel, and dust fell from her hair.

"Running towards half a door."

Tieguai Li held the wrench horizontally.

"The door is blocked again."

Black oil patterns emerge from the back of the wooden plaque.

Three strands of hair are still broken, and the coin with the character "沈" in the middle is sunken.

Deep within the nail hole, the sound of clawing at the wooden box didn't stop, one after another, accompanied by the soft clatter of red rope and copper buckles hitting the edge of the table, creeping into Cheng Xiaojin's ear along with the old wood shavings.

Xiaoxing hugged the steamed bun key tightly.

"Uncle Cheng, could there be someone locked up inside too?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at the oil from the steamed bun and the copper key in her hand, but didn't say she couldn't.

"All you need to remember is to hold onto your livelihood."

Xiaoxing put the steamed bun key back under the seventh lamp. The lamp flame flickered twice and then stuck back to the wick.

Aunt Wang touched Xiaoxing's hair.

"Listen to Uncle Cheng, don't let bad things steal your heart."

Xiaoxing asked softly, "Will he be dragged away too?"

'

Tong Kexin answered for her.

"Yes, so we'll hold him back."

Tang Wanqing finished tying the red thread and turned to Cheng Xiaojin.

"The sound of the wooden box is looking for your ears."

Cheng Xiaojin's shoe tips were pulled back half an inch.

"We can't let it keep scratching."

Zhou Banxian asked, "Silence?"

"It can't be sealed off; the ashtray isn't here, and the old soup table set won't be placed on the ground."

Tong Kexin glanced at the mutton soup pot.

"Use a pot to press it down?"

"That's He Xiulan's mealtime. Xiaoxing has just settled down, so we can't borrow food from her."

Tieguai Li asked, "Then what should we use?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at the half-eaten bun under the seventh lamp.

"Leftover steamed buns."

Han Shaobai lowered his head and counted the account pages.

"Key-shaped steamed buns, copper purse steamed buns, account book steamed buns, and now there are leftover steamed buns too. Aunt Wang's stall should probably get a signboard."

Aunt Wang, holding a steamer basket, glared at him.

"Stop talking nonsense and give me the money."

Han Shaobai took out a hundred-yuan bill.

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Don't give me the whole bill, just accept the leftover steamed buns with the old bills."

Aunt Wang picked out a worn-out coin from her apron pocket.

"Is it okay if I keep giving change for seven or eight years?"

"become."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "The steamed bun has been touched by the lights of a nightclub, and by the shadow of a child's key. It has a human touch inside. Use it to block half a door, and let the wooden box eat it."

Tieguai Li was amused.

"Shen Jiulou uses a wooden box to lure you in, we'll use steamed buns to lure you in with a wooden box."

Zhou Banxian tapped the tobacco pipe.

"The old wooden box reveals the hair, the old steamed bun reveals the food; it's all about the human touch."

Tong Kexin handed the small aluminum kettle to Aunt Wang.

"Add a little bit of the old broth, too much will burn the door."

Aunt Wang broke off half a bun wrapper and smeared a little red oil on the spout of the teapot.

Cheng Xiaojin offered a reminder.

"Don't touch the key area."

"I know, no one has bitten into this piece."

Xiao Xing suddenly spoke up.

"I'll take a bite."

Tong Kexin stopped her wrist.

"I don't need you."

Xiaoxing held onto the key and did not return it.

"They used my blood to open the door, and the food I ate to block it back, and only then did the door recognize them."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at her.

"Just bite into the dough piece; swallow it if you can, and don't force yourself if you can't."

Xiaoxing nodded, took the bun, bit off a small piece, and chewed it carefully.

Tong Kexin took the dumpling wrapper back, smeared it with half a drop of the old soup, and then asked Han Shaobai to put the old piece inside.

Han Shaobai wrote as he wrote.

"Beting half a door of Shen Jiulou for one dollar, I need to make a separate account for that."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Remember this clearly: Sun Xiaoxing took a bite, Aunt Wang provides the steamed buns, Tong Kexin provides the broth, and Han Shaobai provides the old piece."

Han Shaobai's pen moves quickly.

"Brother Cheng, what are you going to play?"

Tieguai Li answered for him.

"Giving bad ideas."

Tang Wanqing looked at the wooden sign.

"How do we get stuck in traffic?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at Liu Bai.

"Where is the half-doorway?"

Liu Bai picked at the crack in the door with his fingertips, and dust fell through his fingers.

"Behind the wooden plaque, below the coin with the character 'Shen' on it, there is a horizontal groove."

Tieguai Li picked at the wrench.

"I can't see it."

Cheng Xiaojin closed his eyes and listened for a moment. The sound of the wooden box being gripped, the sound of the Shen character coin turning, and the sound of air flowing from the horizontal groove behind the wooden sign were all three sounds overlapping.

He opened his eyes.

"Brother Li, move the lever half an inch to the left, then one finger up, and stop."

Tieguai Li did as instructed.

The wooden sign shook, and a gust of cold air blew out from the horizontal groove.

Liu Bai said in a low voice, "You heard even more clearly than Cheng Shouyi."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at her.

"Three tall hats for ten dollars at the flea market, don't put them on me."

Liu Bai didn't laugh.

"You need someone to help you stuff the bun in."

Tong Kexin picked up the bamboo clips.

"I'll do it."

Cheng Xiaojin glanced at the wound on the back of her hand.

"Use a long spoon to support the bamboo tongs, and keep your hands away from the wooden sign."

Tong Kexin clamped the coin on the bun skin with the front end of the bamboo clip and placed the back end on the surface of the long spoon.

Tieguai Li held the door open, and Zhou Banxian placed the compass on the account book.

Han Shaobai read the accounts aloud from the ledger.

"Sun Xiaoxing took a bite, Aunt Wang made the buns, Tong Kexin made the broth, and Han Shaobai made the old piece."

From inside the wooden sign, the fake Lu Mingzhu screamed.

"Xiao Jin, are you trying to stop your mom with a steamed bun?"

Cheng Xiaojin's smile vanished. "You're not my mom."

Tong Kexin pushed the long spoon forward, and the bamboo clips, along with the bun wrapper and coins, stuffed them into the horizontal groove behind the wooden sign. The cold wind pushed outward, the edges of the bun wrapper turned black, and blood seeped from the back of her hand. She pushed the spoon handle against her elbow and inward.

"It's stuck."

Cheng Xiaojin tilted his ear to the side.

"The coin is crooked, one side is facing out."

Han Shaobai shouted urgently.

"The national emblem is facing inwards; I paid for it."

Tong Kexin twisted it with bamboo clips.

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Stop, push."

As soon as the dumpling wrapper was stuffed into the horizontal groove, the sound of the wooden crate being gripped immediately became muffled, and the creaking sound pushed outward through the thick dough.

The bluish-white light inside the willow shop door receded by half a foot, and Liu Bai's waist loosened, causing him to slide half an inch out of the door.

Tieguai Li's eyes lit up.

"Can we drag him out?"

Liu Bai immediately shouted.

"Don't pull."

Liu Bai took a couple of breaths and raised his broken fingertip.

"His body is still half-clipped to the door latch; pulling it forcefully will break it."

Tong Kexin stepped back, and drops of blood fell onto the handle of the long spoon. The heat from the soup made the blood darken in color.

Cheng Xiaojin saw it.

"Wrap it up."

Tong Kexin hid her hands behind her back.

"fine."

Tang Wanqing had already covered the medicine patch.

"Don't follow his example."

Tong Kexin glanced at Cheng Xiaojin.

"Anyone who imitates him will bring bad luck."

Xiao Xing's shadow steadied itself.

He Xiulan stood by the pot, most of the black oil on her red clothes had evaporated, leaving only the black mark from the broken rope on her neck.

She pointed at Sun Daqiang, who curled up into a ball.

"No, sister-in-law, no."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Sister Xiulan, let him live. The accounts in the mortal world need to be settled tomorrow. If he dies, the child's testimony will be missing a piece."

He Xiulan put her hand down.

The Shen character coin on the wooden plaque stopped spinning, and a crack appeared on the edge of the coin, from which red ink oozed out, carrying the scent of the Boguzhai red stamp.

Zhou Banxian's compass needle pierced the account book in Han Shaobai's arms.

"Oh no, it's remembered the red stamp."

Han Shaobai clutched the ledger tightly.

"It wants to take me in? No way!"

Cheng Xiaojin didn't look at the ledger; his ears were turned to the end of the street.

At the west entrance of Liulichang, wheels rolled over the stone slabs, one after another.

Aunt Wang's expression changed.

"This car isn't available at nightclubs."

Tieguai Li's wrench was still stuck in the door crack, so all he could do was curse.

"Delivering goods again?"

Cheng Xiaojin's face darkened as he listened to the sound of the wooden wheels.

"This group won't follow Shen's methods."

In the lamplight at the end of the street, a small paper car slowly turned out.

A paper figure sat on the carriage, with a red stamp from the Boguzhai Museum affixed to its chest.

Han Shaobai nearly dropped the ledger when he saw the red stamp.

The paper figure looked up, its mouth splitting open with a red line.

"Young master, collect the debt."

"Stop taking my grandma's legs."

Tieguai Li's wrench was still stuck in the crack of the willow shop door when he threw it at it with a curse.

The paper cart was parked under the lamplight at the west entrance. The two paper wheels were wet with cold water from the blue bricks. As it turned, a white paste mark appeared on the ground.

The paper figure on the train was dressed in an old long gown, with a pale face, a red-lined mouth that stretched to the ears, and a red stamp from Boguzhai on its chest.

Han Shaobai shuffled back, clutching the account book.

"This stamp is mine."

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the paper figure's chest.

"When I was falsifying the accounts, Shen stole a bit of ink from the seal."

Han Shao's face turned green.

"I always said the seal should never be out of your hand."

Tieguai Li roared at him.

"Don't listen to your dad's lecture right now, the paper doll is looking for you."

The paper figure tilted its head and said, "Young master, collect the debt."

Tang Wanqing turned up the red thread and placed the copper coin in her palm.

"Paper effigy for nighttime travel?"

Zhou Banxian shook his head.

"Almost there, the paper cart for collecting accounts, borrowed from the red stamp, is just a paper-wrapped account ghost."

Tong Kexin used a long spoon to make a horizontal motion.

"What are you afraid of?"

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Oil fire."

Aunt Wang went to touch the fire tongs by the stove.

"I have a stove here."

Cheng Xiaojin stopped her.

"Don't start a big fire, and don't burn the nine lamps indiscriminately."

The paper figure spoke again.

"Young master, collect the debt."

Han Shaobai opened a corner of the account book in his arms, and where the black seal had faded, the red stamp of Boguzhai was still hot.

"It dragged the ledger."

The paper cart slid forward half a foot, and the paper on the wheel edge cracked, revealing a thin black line. The sound was similar to that in the Shen character coins.

Cheng Xiaojin listened with one ear and one ear.

"This wasn't made by a real paper craftsman."

Zhou Bansian asked, "What's wrong?"

"The thread is tangled, the food is meager, it was hastily folded from account paper."

Tieguai Li cursed, "Is Shen Jiulou so desperate for money? Trying to learn our money-saving methods?"

Cheng Xiaojin twitched the corner of his mouth.

"He can't imitate it properly. Even a poor man's tools need to have a human touch. All he has is the stench of debt."

The paper figure with the red thread on its mouth grinned even wider, "Young master, collect the debt."

The car slid towards Han Shaobai again, and Han Shaobai sat on the ground kicking his legs.

"Don't come any closer, you're not allowed to collect my debts."

The paper figure raised its paper hand, its five fingers cut thin, the tips of which were dipped in red ink.

It moved forward a little, and the pages of Lin Huai-ren's debts in the ledger flipped open with a rustling sound.

Tang Wanqing flicked the red thread to wrap her paper hand.

The paper hand folded itself open, pasted red thread inside out, and wrapped around Han Shaobai's wrist.

Tong Kexin splashed a spoonful of old soup over.

Old Tang landed on the front wheel of the paper car, causing the wheel to hiss and smoke, slowing the car down by half a point.

"Not enough soup?"

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Old Tang's tow truck can't seal the paper opening."

Han Shaobai had a long face.

"Is it too late for me to buy my life back?"

Tieguai Li roared, "Don't let yourself be bought!"

The paper cart passed half a foot in front of the mutton soup stall when He Xiulan suddenly blocked the pot, and the red-clothed vengeful corpse reached out to stop the cart.

The paper figure turned its head towards her.

This debt is not yours.

He Xiulan's neck was marked with blackened rope marks, which blocked her breath for a while, and black water seeped out of her red clothes.

Xiaoxing got anxious.

"Mother!"

Cheng Xiaojin immediately said, "Sister Xiulan, step back. The paper account book doesn't belong to your family."

He Xiulan retreated to the side of the pot.

Inside the willow shop, Liu Bai stared at the paper cart, half his face shrank back into the doorway.

"He didn't flush the lamp, he flushed the tent."

Cheng Xiaojin asked, "Which account?"

"Boguzhai".

Cheng Xiaojin looked at Han Shaobai.

Han Shaobai's hair was disheveled, and there was ink on his face, but he still held onto the account book.

"Shaobai, don't go out from under the lamp."

Han Shaobai's white shoes were pressed against the shadow of the sixth lamp.

"Stand here?"

"stop."

Han Shaobai gritted his teeth, crumpling the corners of the account book in his fist.

The paper cart's shadow dragged on the ground, its tail pressed against the crack in the willow shop's door, and the smell of the red stamp from the crack in the Shen character coin grew stronger.

Tang Wanqing said, "It needs to insert the Boguzhai red stamp into the nail hole."

Cheng Xiaojin nodded.

"Shen Jiulou disliked the Lin character seal because it was dirty and wanted to replace it with a clean one."

Han Shaobai almost jumped up in anger.

"My family's red seal is clean, so I can't nail it to his door."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at him.

"Reluctant to part with it?"

Han Shaobai hugged the account book tightly, pursing his lips for a long time.

"I can't bear to part with it."

He glanced at Xiao Xing, then at the mouthful of rice beside He Xiulan's pot.

"But if we don't give it to him, will he still kidnap the child?"

"I'll arrest you."

"That won't work either."

Han Shaobai slammed the account book on the ground and clutched the red stamp in his hand.

"I accept that the red stamp can be used to make mistakes in accounting."

His wrists trembled violently, but his words remained firm.

"Take it to patch up the Shen family's door, but that won't work."

Tieguai Li laughed.

"Young Master has become more assertive."

"7

Han Shaobai's hands were still shaking.

"Let's not talk about that, Brother Cheng, hurry up."

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the front wheel of the paper cart. The smoke rising from the old soup on the wheel carried a hint of mutton offal.

He turned to Grandpa Li and asked, "Do you still have fried liver?"

Grandpa Li was taken aback.

"There's half a pot."

"Half a bowl is enough, don't fill it up."

"Are paper dolls afraid of fried liver?"

"I'm afraid of oil and starch."

Zhou Bansian's eyes lit up.

"Stir-fry liver, thicken with cornstarch, and paste it onto paper."

Tong Kexin chimed in.

"Add some more vinegar."

"right."

Tieguai Li shouted, "How much does it cost?"

Grandpa Li has already brought over the bowl.

"Two pieces for half a bowl."

Han Shaobai immediately reached for the money.

"I'll go," Aunt Wang interjected. "Your section was already blocking the door."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Shaobai will provide the money, Uncle Li will provide the fried liver, Kexin will provide the vinegar, and Aunt Wang will provide the steamer lid."

Tieguai Li asked, "And what about me?"

"Hold the door open."

Tieguai Li gritted his back teeth.

"My job is the most expensive, fucking."

The paper cart slid another half foot, and the paper figure's finger touched the edge of the ledger.

Han Shaobai raised his foot to kick, but Cheng Xiaojin stopped him.

"Don't kick it, it's a paper-stick shoe shadow."

Han Shaobai withdrew his foot. Grandpa Li was carrying a half-bowl of fried liver, the soup noodles glistening with oil and the sauce clinging to the rim of the bowl.

Tong Kexin poured in half a bottle of aged vinegar. The sour smell hit the paper figure, and its head turned around, its red-lined lips shrinking a little.

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Don't splash it on my face, splash it on the wheel axle."

Why?

"The axle is the tent thread."

Tong Kexin dipped a long spoon into the bowl, stirred it a couple of times, and then scooped out the pork intestines and the sauce.

Han Shaobai's eye twitched. "I've actually eaten this stuff before."

Tieguai Li scolded, "Shut up, don't affect the dignity of the magic weapon."

The paper cart was pasted in front of the ledger, and the paper figure and paper hand reached down to grab it.

Tong Kexin poured a spoonful of stir-fried liver and vinegar sauce onto the front axle. The sauce clung to the paper seams, the vinegar seeped into the black thread, and the fat from the intestines clung to the axle hole.

The paper cart paused for a moment, and a hissing sound came from the paper figure's mouth.

"Young master, collect the debt."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "Aunt Wang, cover it."

Aunt Wang slapped the paper cart horizontally, but didn't hit the paper figure; she only hit the front half of the paper cart.

The steam from the hot noodles mixed with the fried liver oil and simmered, causing a section of the paper wheel to collapse, and a black line shot out from the axle, heading straight for the account book.

Tang Wanqing pressed the copper coin down, and the eye of the coin got stuck on the end of the black thread.

"Cut."

Tieguai Li was still blocking the door, unable to free his hands.

Han Shaobai glanced at the red stamp in his hand, grabbed the handle and used it as a hammer, smashing it down on the black thread.

*Snap!* The red stamp landed on the blue brick, the ink covering the black lines.

The black line twisted, but didn't break.

Cheng Xiaojin shouted, "Cover it up again, cover it up completely."

Han Shaobai gritted his teeth.

"This stamp has not been received."

"Shout it out."

Han Shaobai smashed things while shouting.

"Received".

Snapped!

"Sun Daqiang's bad debts have been settled."

Snapped!

"Lin Huai-ren's debt on credit has been collected."

Snapped!

On the third strike, the red-stamped wooden handle cracked in half.

The black thread broke, the paper cart's front wheel scattered into a pile of wet paper, the paper figure tumbled forward, its paper face stuck to the fried liver and vinegar sauce, and its red thread mouth was smeared with starch, unable to open its mouth again.

Tieguai Li laughed loudly.

"Half a bowl of fried liver scalded a paper-thin face, and two dollars won another round."

Grandpa Li straightened his back.

"I usually make more than just paper dolls with my fried liver."

Han Shaobai sat on the ground, holding the cracked red stamp, and remained silent for a long time.

Cheng Xiaojin looked at him.

"Feeling sorry for you?"

Han Shaobai touched the crack in the wooden handle with his thumb, and ink got on his fingertip.

"This was left to me by my grandfather."

The streets were a bit quieter.

Tieguai Li stopped being sarcastic, and Cheng Xiaojin looked at the red stamp.

"A crack isn't necessarily bad; cracks have their uses."

Tang Wanqing looked at the crack in the door of the willow shop.

"The paper cart broke, but the smell of the red stamp still lingered in the wooden sign."

The red ink in the crack of the Shen character coin hadn't dissipated; only a section was missing, and the wooden plaque was still absorbing it.

Liu Bai leaned against the door frame, his voice hoarse.

"Shen Jiulou doesn't want the complete red stamp."

Cheng Xiaojin asked, "What does he want?"

Liu Bai looked at the cracked stab in Han Shaobai's hand.

"gap."

Han Shaobai was stunned.

"Even a tear?"

Zhou Banxian's face darkened.

"The cracked seal opens half the tent, and the half-tent opens half the door."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at the paper cart on the ground.

The paper figure's face was covered in fried liver, and the red stamp of Boguzhai on its chest was already smudged, but a small bulge slowly appeared inside its belly.

Tong Kexin used a long spoon to lift the paper belly, which tore open, and half of a red rope rolled out.

A small piece of wood shavings was threaded onto the red rope.

There was tobacco ash on the back of the sawdust.

Cheng Xiaojin didn't touch it, he just listened.

Someone tapped on the sawdust.

Then, he knocked a second time.

The tail is tucked inwards, a misaligned hook.

Inside the Liupu Gate, the fake Lu Mingzhu remained silent.

The voice changed to a man's.

That low, hoarse voice carried the familiar scent of cigarettes that Cheng Xiaojin knew so well.

"Little shrew, don't let Shao Bai's crack mark enter the door."